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Closet of Miracles

I finally get it. Out of all of Life’s Great Mysteries (The Afterlife, Dippin’ Dots, The Ratings for Two and a Half Men), the one that has consistently baffled me more than any other is What’s So Great About Closets. Galileo, Leonardo da Vinci, Einstein, and the guy who figured out the Whammy pattern on Press Your Luck-all of these guys were stumped when it came to understanding the intrinsic value of a good closet. But not me. Thanks to Wife’s unwavering patience and a head injury I suffered blowing out candles in my fireplace, I have finally unlocked the mystifying power of closets and all their wondrous benefits. No longer must I rummage through jam-packed dresser drawers for wrinkled shirts and pants in the frigid early morning hours with little to no visibility and a ravenous beast stalking me from the shadows. Indeed, after some meticulous organization (read: we moved stuff around), we are now using the storage space off our bedroom as a walk-in closet, complete with shelves of carefully folded shirts, pants and everything else we humans put on our bodies to hide our naked shame. Honestly, walking into this thing feels like shopping in a department store that only sells clothes you would wear. Sure, the Women’s section is three times larger than the Men’s, and there’s no one wearing a NASA headset making sure the clothes stay folded, but I’m working on that (hint: Craigslist). Who knows, I might even hook up some speakers so we can pipe-in clarinet covers of Stevie Wonder’s greatest hits. You know, for atmosphere.